


Only Temporary

by robovacation



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: AU, M/M, Oneshot, robovacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-25
Updated: 2014-09-25
Packaged: 2018-02-18 17:22:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2356430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robovacation/pseuds/robovacation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He's been messing me up for over ten years...and I've never stopped him once."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only Temporary

..

“ _Ciel, I need to see you_.”

That deep voice drifts into my ear and down my spine, flowing throughout my entire body and causing me to heat right up, rendering me motionless, speechless. The way he speaks as if he hasn’t seen me in decades, centuries, millennia, as if he misses me so much that it’s causing him pain. It makes my lips twitch into a cowardly smile, and at this time I’m only thankful that he can’t see my expression.

“So soon, Sebastian? You just saw me yesterday…” I lie into the phone, trying to play it off as if seeing him is something so mundane and uninteresting, as if it’s so normal that it awakens absolutely nothing within me.

“ _But I need to see you **now**_." His voice gets more demanding. "Are you at home? I can be there in fifteen minutes…”

My tongue pushes into the roof of my mouth and I swallow so hard I swear he can hear it. I look around my tiny apartment and my eyes fall to every piece of furniture I own, every book that’s neatly placed on its corresponding shelf, every frame that hangs on my wall. I frantically take in every object yet I don’t truly see them because the one thing I’m looking for is something I will never own – an excuse not to see him.

“I…I’m at home. Are you sure you want to come?”

The sigh of relief on the other end is so sweet it makes my heart ache, and I suddenly hear the sound of his breath.

“ _I’m running to your place, I lied – I’ll be there in two minutes_.”

The beep of the call disconnecting makes me panic and the thought that he’ll be here soon makes adrenaline course throughout my entire body.

I drop my cell on my couch and stumble to my bathroom, my bare feet clumsy as if I’m too excited to be graced with the motor skills of a normal, functioning human. When I reach the door I barge through it like a lunatic, and the first thing I do is look at myself in the mirror.

My eyes are heavy, my skin is pale – my hair is messy. My lips are swollen from last night, from the way he worked them, from the way I spent hours dragging them across his flesh. My throat is stained with enormous bruises, blotches of purple and red, of lifted blood and marks of teeth. My chest is hidden by my shirt, but underneath it’s even worse.

I look like I was sucked dry, like I was eaten alive.

And I love it.

My hand slips underneath the white cloth and I lift my shirt halfway above my torso, flashing myself the reminders of last night. He licked every inch of me and he left his mark wherever he went, branding me like an animal, making me his and only his – making sure that I would never even dream of straying.

But I do. I dream of it, but I would never do it. I belong to him, and he makes me know it. He forces me to know it, he makes me think that there is no one better and throughout the years I’ve grown to believe it, too. He’s the only one for me – he’s the only one who wants me like this, who _could_  want me, who could satisfy me.

If only it were true.

“CIEL. Open up – _now_.”

My head darts over my shoulder at the sudden sound of pounding. My door rattles in its place and my heart starts to race and in a split second I’m sprinting towards it like a trained circus animal.

The second my hand unlocks the door it flies right open, causing me to stumble backwards in shock.

“Took you long enough.”

Sebastian. How can I even describe him, words don’t exist for a man like this. He’s overwhelmingly handsome, especially when he’s been running to see me. His piercing eyes, his black hair that sticks to his throat with the help of his sweat, the way he’s so tall he looks down on me. The way he’s so eager he kicks the door shut and grabs both of my wrists, forcing me to walk backwards as he prowls closer.

“Miss me?” He asks as my back crashes against the entryway to my kitchen, my spine being crushed against the wall when he yanks my wrists up high and pins me to it.

“Always” I respond truthfully and look up at him.

It’s always this moment in time that gets me. Before we start to go crazy on each other, before our lips touch, before we mount one another like animals, before we ransack my entire apartment and break things, ruin walls, furniture, windows, you name it. It’s always these few seconds that make me nervous because I know that it’s the only chance I’ll ever get to change things, yet I never do.

Once we start conversing with our bodies no other words are to be exchanged, and the opportunity always slips right from me. The exchange is over – there is no going back.

When our eyes meet it’s the end of my chance, and in the next second I am flipped around and my pants are yanked from my hips so violently that he didn't even care enough to unbutton them.

He undresses me like a madman, releasing my wrists, tearing the shirt off of my body, making sure I’m nude and he’s clothed, I’m vulnerable and he’s in control.

“God you’re beautiful. I thought about you all day, you know that?”

He asks me this as he claws at my hips and starts to grind into me, grunting through his teeth and breathing his frustration into my ear. It makes me hot and I stick my ass out just like he wants me to, because knowing that I need him turns him on like nothing else.

“Fuck, you want it?” He grunts out like the man that he is.

I can smell the same cologne he’s worn for ten years, it’s so subtle yet it embodies all of him. I can feel his eyes all over me, I can practically taste his desperation.

“I need it.”

The magic words. I say them, he starts kissing my neck, and before I can even release a breath he grabs at my sides and flips me around to face him. It’s like the room is a blur, everything around me meaningless, my vision completely focused on him.

Our lips finally smash into one another and he pries my jaw open with the strong grasp of his hand, forcing me to award him my teeth and tongue. His mouth is so hot it always makes me breathe harder, and while our lips connect he starts to remove his clothes.

I can’t help my instincts or my needs, so I help him. He takes off his shirt and I fumble with his zipper, all while his tongue is taking over, while our teeth are hitting, our jaws lifting and snapping shut, being forced open again, messy and out of control.

There’s something about seeing him without a shirt that always has me scanning his body. I’m searching for something yet I never find it. It’s all flesh and sculpted muscle, flawless and unmarked, never once marred by the likes of me at least - that's against the rules.

“Not here.”

He whispers this in between a kiss and smacks my hand away from his body, his nose nudging into mine sweetly as if he doesn't want me to be offended. He kisses my cheek and my eyelid and my forehead, and I feel like my heart is about to collapse into itself when he lifts a brow and speaks to me again.

“Is your body okay from yesterday?”

Like you care. Like I even care. I hate it when he asks me this, it’s such a formality. As if he wasn't present when he was fucking me so hard I was clawing at the carpet, my fingers raw and red from trying to keep me grounded to the earth while all he wanted was to send me reeling into some twisted dimension of pleasure. Smacking into me, knocking my body all over the place, screaming so loud the neighbors almost called the cops.

"Does it even matter?" I stare at him, my eyes glancing down to my own body for only a second, persuading him to take a good hard look at his own work. He smiles and takes me in, the slight twitch of his lips affirming how rough he was with me and how much he liked it, how much I loved it. How bad I need it again.

"I really did a number on you, didn't I - have you even slept?"

"How could I sleep?" I snap back at him, hating how he's favored talking over taking me. "Between the four hours of rough sex last night and the eight hours of work right after? I haven't even sat down, I haven't rested for a minute."

There's concern on his face now and I wish I had shut my mouth. All I did was delay the one moment I've been craving since he left, and I can't help but feel that I've made a big mistake.

"I'm sorry," his eyebrows slant in worry and he starts running his palm over my back and kissing my lips softly, "I can't help it when I'm around you, you know that. I can go home and come ba-"

"NO" I practically scream into his face and my hands grab onto his pants again. I tug at them and unbutton them, I grope him hard and almost growl at him like a bitch in heat. "I just told you I need it didn't I? Aren't you going to give it to me?"

He says nothing as my hands fumble everywhere, the mere mention of him leaving a threat on my entire existence. If he left me like this now I would die, I would starve. I can't control myself when I release his dick from his clothing and start to shake out my breaths. I grip onto him and pump him hard, desperately trying to calm myself when I feel how solid he is.

The way I start to panic has him lifting my chin with his finger so I look at him with saddened eyes because I ran out of happiness the first year that I met him. He stares at me like I'm the most important person in the world, and I swallow hard when he kisses me and whispers onto my lips.

" _I'm going to fuck you gently tonight, you okay with that_?"

"No," I barely gasp out my reply and I wonder if he can even hear me, "I want it hard".

"You what?" I can see his fine jaw tense, and I know he heard me this time, he just wants to hear it again, that way he knows I've given him full permission and there's no going back.

I squeeze him and start rubbing his wet tip over mine, being lewd as he's taught me and getting hornier by the second. I moan and start moving my hips into his, humping him like I've been deprived of friction for all my life. He stays still while I help myself to his body, shuffling his pants down his thighs, wondering where my sense of modesty has gone, realizing he stripped it from me long ago.

"I  said I want to be fucked rough ."

I squeeze his swollen shaft and tug him forward by that fat cock, pulling his entire body onto mine as hard as possible. Our bare chests meet, our hips collide, and that's all it takes for him to ignite.

My throat is always the first to go, his teeth magnetizing to it like moths to a flame. He bites me hard and I moan, his rough hands lift me right from my place, tearing my roots out from under me and relinquishing all control.

Before I know it he's carrying me and all I can do is grip onto his biceps, let my head hang back and let his mouth continue to devour me. My legs dangle uselessly as he claws at my thighs, whisking me away like a hunter who just caught weakened prey.

On our journey to our mating spot we pass through my kitchen and I only see flashes of my surroundings. My black and white checkered floor, a set of knives, the steel of my refrigerator. I wonder how long it’s been since I ate anything but him. Days, weeks, months, years maybe. Too long.

"Ngh!" I hiss when my back is slammed onto my dining room table, the glass surface clattering against my bones and so cold it makes me wince. 

His forearm swipes at my belongings, clearing a space for him to go crazy on me. Books, papers, my work that has taken me days to write all get smacked against the wall, crumpled up, torn by his fucking claws as he makes sure nothing will ever get between us.

He yanks my legs until my ass is near the edge of the table, the harsh squeak of the glass against my skin exciting me even more. My head knocks back and my arms immediately latch onto the backs of my knees. I spread myself open and start panting hard, and he gives me the first smack of the night.

"Augh! Mm!" the sting of his palm spanking my ass makes me dizzy so I close my eyes and silently beg him to do it again. The anticipation of not knowing when he'll do it is the most exhilarating thing in the world, and he knows exactly how I feel about it.

"I wonder if all my cum from last night will seep out of you if I hit you hard enough."

"Why don't you find out?"

I speak to him as if ordering him, and that tone of voice deserves punishment and I know it. He laughs lowly, caught in his throat, a smile on his lips and instead of giving me what I want he gets between my legs and starts kissing me all over right where I ache.

I absolutely hate it when he's gentle. It makes me want to kick and scream, to break things, to punch walls and faces - sometimes it makes me want to break down and sob uncontrollably.

His lips are soft as they kiss the old wounds on my inner thighs and I start to tense and release my abdomen as if trying to control my suppressed emotions that I've held for an entire decade. He kisses his way up my dick and onto my navel, and he keeps going and going until his tongue gently drags past my throat and over my ear.

"Why do you hate it when I'm good to you?" He whispers and caresses my cheek with the back of his hand, his knuckles cold from running all the way over here in the middle of the night.

I let go of my legs and smack his hand away, my insides bubbling up at the way he stares at me.

"I'm not some bitch, I don't need to be treated gently."

"I never said you were."

"You think I'm a woman well I'm not. I can take it I'm a man, remember?"

"I never said you were a woman, and I _never_ said you couldn't take it."

"Then give it to me hard so I can feel it."

"I don't want to do it like that today." His knuckles glide down my neck and chest and he turns his hand as he descends, feeling my hips and then my thighs, letting his fingertips barely even touch my skin.

"I feel like doing it slow tonight." With one hand on my thigh he props it up until my foot is flat on the table and I'm fully spread. His other hand slips behind the nape of my neck and I can feel my jaw start to tremble like I'm about to let it all out, like I'm about to say something I shouldn't.

"Fuck me hard, not like this, please Sebastian I'm begging you."

"Shh..." his lips are sweet when he gives me a kiss, and when he pushes that piece of himself into me it's so careful that I can feel myself stretch inch by inch, "it feels good like this, doesn't it?"

I shut my eyes tight and shake my head from side to side when he fills me up completely, hating everything about it. I can feel how thick he is, how long and hot he is, how he knows each and every one of my spots to hit.

"No, no...I hate it! Bite me, ngh, make me bleed, tie me up please, hah, please..."

He only answers me with another kiss to my desperate lips and he continues to pump himself in and out of me. I hate the way his hips move like he's an expert, the way he pushes his way in all slow and then leaves it there, grinding his base into me and making heat radiate throughout my entire body.

I want to scream but instead I thrash in place and try to push him off of me. He's bigger and god knows he's stronger and my actions do nothing, so I grunt and slap him hard across the mouth.

"Fuck you! Stop treating me like this!" I yell at him while he's still inside me and he just shuts his eyes and keeps moving his hips back and forth, slowly, back and forth - painfully. 

So I slap him again. And again. Harder each time as I can feel myself about to break, alternating hands from left to right, grunting when I hit him every time he gently thrusts into me. I slap him so violently that blood starts to seep from his upper lip and I don't even care, I'll hit him over and over until none of his face is left for me to look at. 

I'm going crazy. My palms are tingling, my arms are shaking, I'm practically coughing out my breaths because this is the first time I've ever snapped like this.

"Why did you do that?" He lifts his eyelids and stares at me, his motions never ceasing, his handsome face only making it worse as it's beating red from my abuse. "You can hit me all you want if it makes you feel better - it won't change anything. I can't keep myself away from you."

It won't change anything, that's the problem. That's the reason my life is in shambles.

Our bodies rock together, my back sliding up and down the glass slowly, my hands plopping down to my sides in defeat. I turn my head until my cheek touches the cool surface, and I get that feeling like I'm about to shrivel up and die right here on the spot.

He kisses my cheek and places his warm palm on my forehead, swiping hair away from my face so he can see how red it is. He moans at the sight of me and starts moving in such a way that I have to bite my tongue just so I don't give him the satisfaction of hearing me.

"Ciel, you feel so good."

Shut up, please shut up, stop talking.

"God, you're mine, I'm never letting you go. Ngh, the way you suck me in and make it fit - drives me crazy."

"F-fuck you. Shut up, hurry up I hate this!"

"Don't say that." He looks into my eyes and his expression is so sad that my heart skips a beat. He kisses my lips twice and leaves them there, breathing on them, moaning into them, until he finally speaks again, my body shaking from the unwanted pleasure he's giving me.

"You don't know...how much I love you, Ciel. You mean everything to me."

My leg plops down from its position, my eyes immediately start to water. His forehead falls onto my chest and he starts moving just a bit faster. Those words. He's never said them before and I've waited all my life for them. For ten years I would slice off my arm to hear it, I would die for it, and now it's happened and I'm left more miserable than before.

I stare at my ceiling for a second until that wave of agony finally washes over me and hits me like a ton of bricks. I roll my watery eyes to him and I take him in.

His lips, his skin, his sweat - those eyes. I see them all, feel them, let them soak deep into the center of my being.

Every sight I come upon only makes me come undone, and when I notice those hands that are gently gripping my flesh I finally break down and cry because it's always that hand that gets me, it's always that fucking hand.

The sob that inevitably escapes my gasping mouth.

The sound of my pained wail so loud it makes me convulse, how my face heats up and my lips tremble, how I feel his motions stop completely and how I hear him say my name in deep concern.

The hot tears that stream down my face and pool down onto the glass, the gross way in which I gurgle out half-breaths.

The way the air smells and feels and envelops my wounded state of mind - the way my bones rattle within my chest.

The reflection of light on that hand that holds me, the glint, the glimmer of gold, the restrictive band of a promise.

That ring on his finger never fails to remind me that he will never be mine.

And this is only temporary.

..

 

 


End file.
